


snow and dirty rain

by belljars



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Angst, Character Study, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of drugs, No Plot/Plotless, Prose Poem, basically just gays being stupid in different cities okay i dont know, kind of?, references to lyrics and poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 00:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21217427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/belljars/pseuds/belljars
Summary: something along the lines of ‘here i am, risking my life for you, here is my life and how you could fit into it'





	snow and dirty rain

**Author's Note:**

> i usually post these on tumblr, but this got away from me and is too long. it also sucks, but that's not the point. still haven't seen the film, so all of this is bookverse only. 
> 
> my tumblr is vegaschapters, come yell about these idiots with me. 
> 
> title from snow and dirty rain by richard siken; i made this place for you. a place for you to love me / i had a dream about you. we were in the gold room where everyone finally gets what they want.

**xanax**

generic name(s): alprazolam

  * used to treat anxiety and panic disorders
  * belongs to a class of medications called benzodiazepines which act on the brain and nerves (central nervous system) to produce a calming effect
  * suburban moms carry this drug around when their husbands give them headaches (or if their kids are being loud or going on an airplane, they’ll slip them half a pill)
  * if your entire body feels like a central nervous system, alprazolam may be right for you!

I: we met in las vegas (cue indie music from the early 2000’s). it was all heat and flash and cold sweat from the first second of eye contact. i roll my eyes, you bite your tongue, not much has changed, right?

there was a bus stop and a black umbrella, remember s.o.s iceberg and chugging beer like it was water? remember the hiding in our closets and sharing clothes until the initials scribbled in black pen faded from the labels? “never summer” on a tshirt, but it was never cold around you any way. sweaters in the desert heat and half naked swimming when the wind got cold, were we being teenagers or trying to die?

remember knees prying legs apart and forgetting the taste of orange juice without vodka? the smell of fruit rot and dog sick embedded forever in beige carpets that scratched our backs bloody.

there were fingers ghosting bruised limbs and black eyes, lips to temples in the middle of the night, hello there, sorry about that, are we ever going to be like them? all those fathers who say affection is for suck ups and women, jealous girlfriends who think love is getting fucked up and possessive, did a car run us down or are we learning how to fall in love?

we met underneath the surface of your swimming pool, choking to death by choice, but holding out a hand you can only see in the corner of your eyes, hey, you’re not leaving, not that we have reasons to stay, but i can’t be sure that i’m able to follow, wait, wait, wait!

bloody knuckles pressed to bloodied mouths in the wind, sand, and stars, playground gravel stuck in our shoes, we weren’t little kids but we still hurt as though we were.

there’s this tune i can’t really remember on the tip of my tongue, you know how it goes, it’s crackled through tangled headphones in between us on a twin size mattress more times than i can count.

but all i know is that i want this night to last forever, try to close the door and stay awhile, we’re having such fun, it’s happening to you, to me, to us, to all of them.

there was yelling at the news and knocking things over, glass getting stuck in our hands and perfume disinfectant, i trust you, right? i trust you, kill me, touch me, teach me to be alive and wake me up. i don’t want to go through life half asleep anymore.

live by the sword, die by the sword; it runs in the family, and we start early here (there’s not much to do in the desert).

but i’m pretty sure my true addiction is you, hands rough and fast, drugs are boring when there’s an empty swing on the playground, sleep doesn’t come when my body is lonely, it’s all you, and you, and you. i’ve lived by it, and i’ll die by it. am i predicting or hoping?

**aspartame**

other names: _N_-(L-α-Aspartyl)-L-phenylalanine, 1-methyl ester

  * aspartame is an artificial non-saccharide sweetener 200 times sweeter than sucrose, and is commonly used as a sugar substitute in foods and beverages
  * aspartame has been deemed safe for human consumption by over 100 regulatory agencies in their respective countries (not that you actually care all that much)
  * aspartame can be found in the diet coke that tastes alien on your tongue without vodka or rum or whatever you were able to steal today
  * use aspartame to sweeten up your new lifestyle and happy go lucky attitude
  * _(hello, you’ve reached the voicemail of theodore decker, looking through my texts is a constant reminder that i left the love of my life and he ignored my messages like a school girl, i can’t comprehend your voice messages or write your number down due to how dissociated i am from the world around me in this numb and suicidal state, but please, please leave your message, make my day, spend another minute in your office chair leaving me this message i won’t get back to and the police will hear to see whether i should just be ruled another suicide and lumped with all the other bodies without a loved one in some dumpster behind the morgue. have a nice day!) _

II: we met in new york. hey there, sorry about that, sorry you left me, sorry i didn’t reply, i’m sorry for the rings under your eyes and for the shivering you’re trying to hide beneath your overcoat.

i’m sorry i stole from you, you didn’t know this, am i waking you up this time around? you never looked, never unwrapped it, were you scared or did you know deep down that unwrapping this secret of yours might uncover your other one?

i know, i knew, you know about me too. does it matter or are you just not high enough? when was the last time i called you by your name? the last time either of us allowed ourselves to stop hiding for a minute, say your own name in a mirror or let me cough it out of my lungs and spill on the floor.

one of us eats like a kid on the street, one of us is looking everywhere but the plates in front of us, are you okay, are you alright, how’s your fiancé, why did you never come back, why did i never come to you?

it feels like we’re back under the chlorine water, stinging our eyes and noses as we inhale on accident (maybe on purpose), letting artificially salted water fill our lungs, it feels like crushing secrets up and making them into razor thin lines –

and it all comes spilling out again, doesn’t it? you won’t talk to your girlfriend or your father figure, but your words are dripping from your mouth along with the beer flowing down your chin, why do you talk to me, what do you mean you don’t know what i did? and what do you mean you don’t remember what we did?

eyes looking eachother up and down (promise me we won’t be like those girlfriends we had, those boyfriends gripping their wrists when they turn to leave, those couples showing off and taking pictures before going their separate ways without any thoughts of their counterpart occupying their mind, you’ve been occupying mine for ten years, tell me we were never like them), hands brushing the shoulders of your jacket, fingers gripping the handle of the car door and holding it open for you, i have a driver, i have a life, maybe it’s not legal because it makes me think of you, maybe we can just go back to our ways slightly to the left of the law?

there’s an engagement party and a look of disinterest in the eyes of both parties, but you’ll do anything to please her mother since you can’t please your own anymore. and i’ll ask if you’re happy, and it’s not the first time, you’ll say not very and we can pretend like that’s good enough, but it’s not even close, is it?

it’s someone else – we know that much.

i still think you might hate me, just a little, underneath the skin like an itch you can’t get rid of but it hurts to scratch at. and i still love you a little, well, a lot (yes, we both knew well enough, you weren’t alone, you aren’t alone), but we don’t talk anymore and we never talked about this. but you don’t object to the plane tickets or the false hope i’m feeding you, so maybe we still know well enough without saying it out loud.

**paracetamol**

other names: n-acetyl-para-aminophenol (apap), acetaminophen

  * paracetamol is a medication used to treat pain and fever, typically used for mild to moderate pain relief.
  * it is generally safe at recommended doses.
  * cannot be used to treat your pathetically broken heart or the hurtful disgust you feel towards all of humanity and the ways of human beings
  * does not mix well with alcohol
  * unless you’re trying to kill yourself
  * oh, you are trying to kill yourself? took a shot in the dark. you’re being quite obvious, though, now that i think about it. you compare yourself to a dying puppy you found with your now deceased mother when you were a kid, you tried to save him, but now you don’t want to bother saving yourself?
  * you feel your system failing every second but no one is picking you up off the street and feeding you or wrapping you in a blanket, nursing you back to health like you tried to do for the puppy
  * no no, don’t worry, calm down, go dream of her again. you can’t let go just yet. wait until next chapter.
  * wait-

III: we go to amsterdam. it’s a plan, not an accident, at least not technically. i’m trying to get a rise out of you, some sort of reaction, i don’t like that you look dead behind the eyes. you did too when we met in vegas (umbrella, swimming pool, glass bottles, run for it, potter, go), but never like this, never like i might actually lose you. there’s some understanding in this, isn’t there? in you putting the life you feel so alienated from on pause and running away, like we’re kids again, like your fiancé is a store manager or one of our fathers, like you’re jumping right back into that swimming pool again (we nearly drowned attempting to wake up, are we doing this again, are we doing us again?), proving that your reckless behavior isn’t reserved for those moments where you don’t remember ever being sober.

something along the lines of ‘here i am, risking my life for you, here is a gun that’s just for show (we’re not turning it on ourselves this time), here is my life and how you could fit into it, here is the place where your soul lies wrapped in newspaper, here are the people who could break you apart with the snap of their fingers.

something along the lines of a mazzy star single from the 90’s that i’m suddenly remembering, looking at your silent face more terrified than ever. you look paler now than back then, lack of desert heat, starving yourself with love, both for and of it.

there’s a quote about wanting to die for love – i don’t know why it comes to mind.

but hey, i finally got to take a bullet for you. you never asked me to, but i’d have taken a bullet to every other limb if it meant getting your bird back to safety, here, with you. one of us is yelling and one of us is driving, but we’ve melted together and it seems pointless to be torn apart again. we can’t recognize our voices and our ears are ringing (or maybe i’m just hearing the ringing in your ears inside my own head, great friend of my life, blood of my heart). and either way, what bliss.

there’s a hotel room and a bottle of pills, an extra handful on the dresser, there are notes to everyone except the one person you need to write to the most. but again, you want to die for love.

and what does death mean, anyway? what is this recurring theme of death being terrifying in all its glory, its ability to truly end everything. i think you’re dead now, i can’t get my passport back from you, i can’t hear my phone chime, i can’t hear, i can’t see, there’s still ringing in my ears, but there has been for a while. if you’re alive, i can’t say goodbye to you again. don’t overthink it, we both know well enough. and then you’re there, standing by the door, a tender gaze and a casual smirk, and it’s all desert heat and sticky foreheads once again, and we don’t have to die for love, because it’s still around.

i don’t care about the money and you don’t care about the hole in your arm, we don’t speak about the notes in my garbage bin or the vomit on the bathroom floor.

what’s that line about wanting the night to last forever?


End file.
